


Unexpected Hero

by bookmawkish



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Charge
Genre: Fights, Gen, Heckyl Whump, Heckyl doesn't want your damn help, Minor Injuries, Tumblr Prompt, Villains to Heroes, heroes being heroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookmawkish/pseuds/bookmawkish
Summary: Heckyl eventually turns his head slowly and painfully to the right, spitting out some blood, before turning back to Riley and making a truly crazy-looking attempt at a triumphant grin.“Well, you‘re welcome,” he manages, then before Riley can think of anything remotely suitable to respond to that, he staggers, sways on his feet, and crashes down into the mud, face first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a prompt on Tumblr, got inspired to continue by @Strawberrywaltz's lovely stories, particularly Kiss and Control. 
> 
> Heckyl is a bad patient, Rangers are nice people, but in the right circumstances, they may kick a guy when he's down.

Riley’s day just keeps getting more confusing by the second.

He’s heading home through the park after a quick trip to the store in the rain, carrier clutched in his arms, already looking forward to the pizza he has picked out, when there are suddenly Vivix everywhere. And monsters. Snide himself, sword in hand, laughing like a demon hyena, flanked by two others that Riley’s never seen before, but who look as massive and as dangerous as all of the others they’ve faced.

He’s alone, it’s raining, he’s weighed down with groceries, and there’s nothing he can do except fight. He ditches the bag with only a minor pang of regret about his lost pizza, morphs, and goes straight for Snide as the biggest threat.

It becomes clear all too soon that he’s hopelessly outgunned by himself. Snide is end-of-level-boss-stage awful, and he’s got some kind of tentacle hidden in his chest that bursts forth as soon as Riley gets close. Wrapped in unspeakable coils, assailed on all sides, Riley is close to passing out and therefore doesn’t see Heckyl arrive.

But arrive he does.

He runs straight into the middle of the fight and brings his hands together in a sharp  _smack_ , blue light flaring between his palms, shooting out a crackling shockwave aurora of power that sends all the Vivix stumbling and cowering away. The two junior monsters look disconcerted: Snide just looks furious. Riley finds himself unceremoniously dropped onto the wet ground as Snide and Heckyl circle each other like cats in a backyard. They trade blows cautiously, a slam of power from Heckyl, a swipe of the blade from Snide. Neither seems very keen to engage closer.

Riley is more baffled by the fact that Heckyl and Snide can actually be in the same place at the same time than by the fact that Heckyl seems to have switched sides. He flips to his feet, punches the nearest junior outlaw in what passes for its face, and keeps an eye on the main event as he continues to fight.

It’s Heckyl who cracks first and breaks the standoff. He charges Snide bodily: the two of them grapple for a moment (which gives Riley a whole new appreciation for what Heckyl’s physical strength must be like) and then Snide flings Heckyl a clear six feet through the air and the man smashes into a tree, spine first.

And  _gets up again._

He’s as resilient as a Ranger.

Riley finally bests the monster he’s fighting (the creature flees into the trees, following the scattered Vivix) but is immediately set upon by the other, who has been keeping out the way of the Snide/Heckyl confrontation. Concentrating on this new fight occupies him completely - he focuses only on his attacker - so he’s only really aware of Heckyl again when the alien pops up behind the monster, grabs its head in both hands and delivers another blast of blue lightning directly through its neck.  It drops and rolls, convulsing and squalling in pain, and then like its compatriot, turns and runs off.

Silence returns to the park. The Green Ranger and Heckyl are left standing, both breathing hard, and staring at each other in the rain. Heckyl is standing awkwardly: leant up on one side, arm clasped tightly across his chest. Riley cautiously de-morphs, feeling that there’s no longer any immediate threat.

There is no longer any sign of Snide. Heckyl eventually turns his head slowly and painfully to the right, spitting out some blood, before turning back to Riley and making a truly crazy-looking attempt at a triumphant grin.

“Well, you‘re  _welcome_ ,” he manages, then before Riley can think of anything remotely suitable to respond to that, he staggers, sways on his feet, and crashes down into the mud, face first.

 

It’s fortunately past closing at the Dino Bite when Riley decides to share his confusing day with everyone else and turns up to bang at the door with one arm around Heckyl at his side. Tyler answers, a broom still in hand. He looks startled as he unlocks and opens the doors.

“Before you say anything,” Riley says, pushing past and dragging Heckyl in with him, “the answer is, I don’t know. But he just stopped me from getting beaten up by Snide and a whole bunch of his friends, and he’s hurt, and I couldn’t just leave him out there.”

“Wait, Snide was there? And Heckyl? They’re  _separate_?”

“Yeah. Very much separate. And really, really mad at each other. Can I just -”

Riley gestures to the booth seats, and at Tyler’s nod, he slides Heckyl onto one of them. The alien is barely conscious and Riley carefully tilts him forward so he’s leaning his head on his arms on the table. Riley lowers his voice. “Look, he fought Snide off, as well as a bunch of Vivix, and a couple of outlaws. And I’m grateful to him, but I don’t understand why he would do that.”

“I’m guessing being separate from Snide has a lot to do with it. Maybe we’ve had it wrong all this time. Maybe Snide’s had control over Heckyl all along. He’s just never been able to break free and fight back before.”

Heckyl groans, quietly, and slumps further forward onto the table. On closer inspection, he’s now fully unconscious and isn’t roused when Riley speaks to him, says his name, even shakes him.

“Now what,” Riley murmurs, genuinely upset by this turn of events. Heckyl is certainly no friend of his, but he feels weirdly responsible for the injured man. Tyler looks similarly disquieted, and the small trickle of blood on Heckyl’s face that is just starting to drip onto the table is bothering him more than he’d care to admit.

“I think we should call Ms Morgan,” he says.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not human,” Heckyl says, wearily, sinking back into the chair. “You can say it. I do know, you know.”

“His tattoo is gone.”

Kendall, all business, is checking Heckyl over. He’s still out cold. She is gentle handling him: lifting his head from the table, wiping away the blood from his nose and mouth with a napkin. She turns his head to the side to expose his neck to Tyler and Riley. “See? That backs up what you saw. Snide has been detached. We’ve only got Heckyl here. By himself.” After a pause and a slight grimace of embarrassment, she quickly slips her hand down across Heckyl’s vest, presses at his chest, and draws back almost as fast when he jolts and cries out in pain, his eyes snapping open.

“Sorry!” Kendall whispers, automatically, because the look on Heckyl’s face is awful, and he scrambles backwards in the booth, away from them all. “Heckyl. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just - I had to check. I think a couple of your ribs are broken. They’re bruised at least.”

“What - what am I doing here?”

There’s a very odd moment for the assembled Rangers, because Heckyl looks bewildered and frightened, as if he’s seriously considering bolting from the café: but then he seems to gather his bravado and his mouth curls in a much more familiar sneer. “If you’re going to kill me, get on with it. This is just  _boring me_ ,” he snarls, his eyes darting from one to the other of them, determined not to back down. The Rangers exchange glances.

“I don’t know what it’s like where you were raised,” says Riley, “but where I’m from we don’t just kill the people who’ve saved our lives. Thanks for that, by the way. I’d love to know why you did it.”

“Well, much though this has been  _lovely_ ,” Heckyl says, keeping the sharp, sarcastic tone in his voice, “I really have to be going. Right now.” And he gets up. Or at least he tries - shoving back from the table, but almost as soon as he moves he gasps, unable to mask the instinctive reaction. His hand comes up to curl protectively around his ribs and he stumbles.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” says Tyler, not without sympathy. “Sit down. We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to know what happened.”

“I’m gonna get you some Advil,” Riley says, and is indeed going to do so when Kendall says: “No, don’t -”

She glances apologetically at Heckyl. “It’s a painkiller,” she says. “But I’d rather you don’t take any. I don’t want to poison you when you’re not…I mean…”

“I’m not human,” Heckyl says, wearily, sinking back into the chair. “You  _can_ say it. I do  _know_ , you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Kendall says, again. He shrugs.

“Why? It’s not  _your_ fault.” He sees the still-stricken look on her face and rolls his eyes in irritable defeat. “If it makes you feel any better, I heal fast. I‘ll be out of your hair very soon, pretty lady, don‘t you worry.”

Riley brings him a Coke instead (because of course that‘s far less potentially poisonous to aliens). Heckyl drinks it all, in one long series of gulps, and doesn’t die, so Riley gets him another one. It seems to relax him a little: he huddles over the table, but he doesn’t have that tenseness in his posture, that preparation to flee that was there before.

“So,” Riley says, when Heckyl is halfway down his second Coke, “you wanna tell us how you and your worse half got broken up?”

“Arcanon,” says Heckyl, and the venom in his voice is unmistakable. “Split us apart with the split emitters. Wrench helped him. I suppose I should be grateful.”

“Grateful?” queries Kendall, looking at him sharply.

“You think I  _liked_ sharing a body with that -”

Heckyl abruptly looks down at the table and seems to make an effort to get himself under control, flexing his fingers. Little motes of white-blue light curl between them.

“It wasn’t my choice,” he says, and because he’s busy staring at the tabletop he doesn’t see the utterly horrified expressions the three Rangers are wearing. Because this changes everything for them. The villain they’d been fighting had been himself under duress.

It  _hadn’t been his choice_.

“Arcanon won’t let me live,” Heckyl adds, after a moment’s thought. “I am as much his enemy now as you. And so -”

He heaves himself up again, and this time makes it all the way, although he’s white with pain by the time he’s fully standing.

“ - as I said. I’m leaving.” He gives them a truly dreadful, shaky grin. Lots of teeth. Absolutely no humour. “Thank you, Rangers, for the entertainment. You’ve been. Well. Just  _wonderful_.”

Because of their surprise, he actually makes it halfway to the door before a hand falls on his arm and grips, hard. Riley glares at him.

“You’re leaving to protect us,” he says, and ignores Heckyl’s eye-rolling, lip-curling denial. “I know you are. But I won’t let you. You didn’t ask for this. You’re just as much of a victim as I was when Snide attacked me tonight.”

“Oh please,” Heckyl scoffs, shaking Riley‘s grip loose, “you’re dreaming. Maybe you think you can ‘save me’. “ He inserts the air quotes seamlessly. “I’m not your responsibility. I can look after myself. I’m a grown-up. In fact, I‘m so grown-up compared to all of you that -”

“But you‘re hurt,” interrupts Kendall, quietly. “If you go after him now he’ll kill you. But if we go after him together -”

“I don’t  _need_  or  _want_ your help,” Heckyl spits, immediately, but it’s too late - Tyler and Kendall alike have seen the flicker of fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

“No,” says Tyler, and he glances at Kendall, who nods. “I guess you don’t. But you’re going to get it anyway. And we’re going to start by getting you healed up. Come on. You can’t rest properly here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Heckyl hisses, sinks into a combat stance, and his hands spark with electricity. Immediately, Riley spins on one foot, kicks Heckyl accurately in the back of the knees, before leaping back to avoid being fried. Except that Heckyl is too busy sprawling on the floor to attack. He’s shaky and weak, and the power pooling in his palms fades as he tries to stop himself from collapsing completely. Knelt on the ground, furious and helpless, he looks up to see Riley bending to his side, his face showing nothing but compassion.

“Sorry,” Riley says. “but you made me do that. Please, Heckyl. I want to help you. Just let me. You can shout at me while I do it if it‘ll make you feel better, I don‘t care. Just - please.”

And Heckyl, shuddering and scowling on the floor, his hand clutched to his injured chest, hangs his head in defeat.

He protests all the way to Tyler’s house, but it’s obvious the fight has gone out of him now and it’s just words. Tyler puts down a camp bed in the den, and Heckyl allows himself to be installed in it without more than a token protest. He’s obviously exhausted and while he grumbles vindictively at Tyler when he’s brought a blanket (“I’m not a  _child_. I’ll kill you in your sleep.”) he crashes out very fast and is asleep in an untidy sprawl within minutes of pulling the blanket over himself. True to his word, Kendall notes that the bruises on his face are visibly fading as he sleeps. Fast healing, indeed.

“Phew,” Riley says. “He’s hard work.”

“He doesn’t know how to be nice,” Kendall says, quite accurately. “He’s had no practice. I think he’s actually doing quite well, considering.”

“I feel bad,” Tyler says, unexpectedly. When the others look to him, he adds: “Look, I know we didn’t know. But he was innocent. All this time. Snide was holding him prisoner.”

“He’s still hard work,” says Riley, grinning. “He’s even more sarcastic than my brother.”

“We can’t change how we treated him in the past,” Kendall says. “But we can change now. And we can finish Snide for good, if he’ll help us.”

“Sure,” says Tyler, unconvinced, his gaze darting down to Heckyl again. Heckyl is snoring, his head lolled back on the bed. “I’m sure he’ll be a great help.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you for the bed. Thank you for the whole not-killing-me thing. But I don’t want any more of your….“ he circles a hand vaguely “…ludicrously wholesome assistance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few bits here while my brain isn't working right. That's the only excuse I have for the gratuitous socks anyway.

Initially, it seems that Tyler’s misgivings are well-founded. Heckyl sleeps like a dead man for over twelve hours, right through the night and into the morning. Kendall, who is both unfailingly practical and a good leader, assigns them all shifts to watch him. It’s a very boring job, as it turns out, because the most interesting thing Heckyl does is twitch with bad dreams and once, at around half past three when his assigned watcher Riley is almost dozing off himself, his fingers flex and blue static crackles around them. Riley blinks frantically, coming to full wakefulness in a horrified instant, preparing to fight. But the power dissipates almost as quickly as it gathered: and Heckyl, still sleeping, shudders, a whole-body tremor from head to foot, then curls up into a tight ball under the blanket.

He stays that way until Tyler gets up at six and quietly starts making coffee for everyone. Riley gets the first cup, as he’s been up since three, and he takes it gratefully.

“All quiet?”

“Totally quiet,” Riley affirms. “We need to tell the others about this today.”

“Well, yeah. He can’t stay here. I mean, he really can’t, I’m technically not allowed sleepover guests. He’ll have to come with us to work.”

“Who’s opening up today?”

“Ivan.”

Riley looks relieved. Of all of them, he feels Ivan may be the easiest to convince.

“You want me to wake him up?”

“Nah, let him sleep until we’ve all had a chance to use the shower and get a drink.” Tyler sees the question in Riley’s expression. “Look, he’s basically _wearing mud_ and has blood all over his face. We take him out of here looking like that he’ll draw attention. He’ll do that anyway dressing like he does. He can take a shower and I’ll lend him some clothes, it’ll be way easier to keep him around like that.”

Riley, sipping his coffee, nods. It sounds like an extremely sensible plan.

However, it’s safe to say that Heckyl doesn’t quite see it that way when Riley cautiously shakes him awake an hour or so later.

“Heckyl.”

The alien shifts slowly under Riley’s hand on his shoulder, stretches. It’s already obvious he’s moving much more easily and fluidly than the previous night. His eyes narrow as he remembers where he is and what’s happened, but he makes no immediate comment.

“How’re you feeling?” Tyler asks. There’s a moment as Heckyl frowns, sits up, arches his spine like a cat, testing for injuries. The result seems satisfactory, though, as he huffs out a relieved breath.

“Fine,” he says, eventually. He doesn’t meet Tyler’s eyes, instead seeming extremely interested in straightening the ruined cuffs of his shirt. His expression is a carefully insouciant sort of sneer. 

“Hey, so, we kind of need to go now,” Riley says. “And we need you to come along, so - ”

“Not that I don’t love that charming little eating establishment of yours,” interrupts Heckyl, bringing his hand up to hide a yawn, “but I’m not going back there again. Quite apart from anything else I‘m pretty sure I got fired after that whole pillow business.” He favours Kendall with a bright, charming, yet entirely empty smile. “Thank you for the bed. Thank you for the whole not-killing-me thing. But I don’t want any more of your….“ he circles a hand vaguely “…ludicrously wholesome assistance.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not going to help _you_ ,” says Kendall, quite firmly. “Quite the opposite. You’re going to help us.”

“ _Really_ ,” purrs Heckyl dangerously, drawing out the syllables and rolling the r into a lengthy drawl. He swings his feet down from the bed, realises somebody (it was Riley) has taken his boots off while he was sleeping, and scowls in annoyance. It’s harder to make a quick escape when you don’t have shoes.

“Really,” says Riley, smiling. Heckyl’s wearing bright turquoise socks that match his hair. They’d been quite a surprise when he’d discovered them.  “But first you’re gonna get cleaned up. You look like you got dragged through a swamp.”

For the first time since he woke up, a flicker of uncertainty crosses Heckyl’s face. One hand rubs at a patch of dried mud on his lapel.

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Tyler adds, and now Heckyl almost visibly pales, his eyes widening.

“No,” he says, giving Tyler a brief and obvious once-over, as if to be completely certain of his opinion. “ _Absolutely_ not. I refuse.”

The Rangers glance at each other, amused, and Tyler, who has very generously opted not to be offended by Heckyl’s blatant condemnation of his fashion choices, takes a short step forward.

“We’re not asking,” he says. “And I don’t think you want to turn us down. You burnt your bridges with those guys on Sledge’s ship. But you haven’t with us.” he waves away the incredulous snort he gets in response. “Snide has. Not you. So do you wanna go hang around the mall with all the teenagers until you die of boredom, or do you wanna help us kick the ones who hurt you off this planet for good? “

Heckyl is silent for a long moment, then:

“You _suck_ at motivational speeches, Red Ranger. You really do.”

“Great,” says Tyler, unmoved. “Fresh towels are on the rail. There’s clothes hanging in the closet. And Riley put your boots in the hall.”

None of them are quite prepared for the oddness that is Heckyl in regular clothes. When he emerges from the shower he is evidently outraged and disapproving, like a tough street cat who has been forced into a glittery collar with a bow on it, and his expression dares anyone to make a comment. Nobody does. It’s just too peculiar to see their old nemesis out of his villain formals.

Tyler, naturally, owns a lot of red. So there’s a soft longsleeved t-shirt in quite a rich burgundy colour which reads “Amber Beach Luau Month!“ in faded twirly yellow script across the chest, and a pair of jeans that seem to have gone through at the knees but which are a pleasingly dark indigo - and Heckyl evidently hates the whole ensemble with a burning passion. His hair, washed of any product and only half-dry, is almost fluffy, the blue stripe standing out brightly. Maybe he, too, prefers to wear his own colour.

He sweeps past them all haughtily to collect his boots from the hall, eyes flashing, chin up, lips pressed into an angry line, shoulders stiff and furious. His back to them, he raises a warning finger - “Nobody say a _word_ ” - before slamming out of the door, leaving it wide open.

Suppressing laughter, Kendall, Riley and Tyler follow in his wake. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is wrong with you humans? Do you have to be touching everybody all the time? Is it some kind of test? Are you looking for weak points or something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this sat around for ages because I couldn't make it feel right, but I can't edit it any more without going crazy. Here it is. I apologize in advance.

Ivan is alone in the cafe when they get there, which is probably for the best. Heckyl is still chafing at the clothes (and, quite likely, the whole situation) and is not in a receptive mood.

“Don’t freak out,” is Riley’s opening gambit, as they all walk in: Tyler and Kendall have instinctively moved up to flank Heckyl. Keeping him between them serves a dual purpose - to reassure Ivan that they are the ones in control of the situation, and also to send the message that Heckyl is with them. Tyler even places a hand, very lightly, on Heckyl’s shoulder, to reinforce the picture. Heckyl stares at the hand as if entirely uncertain whether or not it’s going to suddenly start punching him, but he doesn’t shrug it off.

Ivan lays down his cloth and comes out from behind the counter to meet them. His eyes are intent on the interloper between his friends, but he isn’t attacking on sight, which is a good sign. He nods to Tyler and Kendall as Riley moves to lock the door behind them. The cafe isn’t due to open for another half hour.

“So,” says Ivan, when nobody seems to quite know where to start, “you have captured our enemy.” He tilts his head in mild bemusement. “And given him...what is it you call it...a ‘makeover’. An interesting choice. Is that your shirt, friend Tyler?”

Heckyl snorts, and Tyler’s hand increases pressure just slightly. The last thing they need is a diatribe from Heckyl on the subject of how little he’s enjoying this. Mercifully, Heckyl gets distracted by the unfamiliar sensation of somebody companionably squeezing his arm, and shuts up.

“It’s not as simple as that,” Kendall says. “Heckyl...he’s split from Snide.”

Ivan frowns, eyes flicking to Heckyl in an unmistakably suspicious manner (for which nobody can blame him), until Riley speaks up. “It’s true. I saw them both last night in the park. They fought each other. I was gonna be toast until Heckyl turned up.”

“It was hardly intentional,” Heckyl drawls, rolling his eyes. “Fighting Snide is an instinctive thing for me. I barely knew you were there.”

Kendall gives him an _oh-my-god-shut-UP_ look, but Ivan doesn’t seem bothered. His expression has shifted as he regards Heckyl, looks deep in the alien’s eyes and then he nods, very briefly.

“I have heard it said, the enemy of mine enemy is my friend. Or at very least, someone I can work with.” He reaches out, gives Heckyl a friendly cuff around the other shoulder (Heckyl jolts in shocked confusion) and then returns to his work behind the counter.

“Wait, that’s it?” Heckyl says, and it almost sounds like he’s disappointed, as if he’d been expecting a fight.

“That’s it,” Ivan nods, polishing a glass. “Are you going to help me open up? I’m sure you remember the routine. You were a quick learner.”

“You -” Being utterly at a loss seems to be Heckyl’s new default. He blinks rapidly. “You’re serious,” he manages eventually. “You want me to _work_?”

“Might as well make yourself useful,” says Tyler, and Riley grins in agreement.

“I’ve been trying to kill you for _months_.”

“Does that stop you doing table service?”

Heckyl tries again, starting to sound almost pleading.

“I’m _millions of years old_.”

“Okay, Grandad,” says Riley, and gives him a friendly push, which seems to just make Heckyl more nervy. He literally jumps.  “You can start on checking the sauces and napkins.”

Before Heckyl can recover himself enough for a really good retort, the cafe door opens again and a couple of the regular staff, Abby and Justin, come in. Normal people, who’ve been on the rota at the museum for years. People whose lives don’t involve regular monster fights and saving the earth. They stop just inside the door, catching sight of Heckyl.

“Hey, you’re back!”

And Abby, bless her, actually flings herself forward and hugs him. Heckyl immediately freezes, eyes darting to each of the Rangers in turn. He’s obviously so far out of his depth he’s about to drown. Kendall, taking pity on him, gives him a hint by miming hugging back. He manages it, sort of, delivering an uncertain squeeze to Abby’s shoulders, before she pulls away. “We were worried about you,” Abby says. “They said you’d had a family emergency and had to leave. Is everything OK? You’ve been gone for ages. You look so...” She gives his borrowed outfit an obvious up-and-down. “...different.”

“I -”

Heckyl seems to get it together and switches on his usual charm, although there’s an edge to it now, like he’s genuinely concerned about giving the right impression.

“I was having some problems with my twin brother,” he says. “He’s...he’s not a great guy at all. You know. Uh. Drugs. And...gang warfare. And…” He seems to hit a seam of inspiration. “And crime! Absolutely _everything illegal_ , he’s part of it. He’s a very bad role model.” He leans in conspiritorially.  “Our parents are mortified. _So_ embarrassing. I just can’t go out anywhere in my hometown without people thinking I’m some kind of monster because of him.”

The gathered Rangers are almost gawping now at this unlooked-for level of fabrication, and Heckyl mercifully quits it before he can dig himself in any further of a hole.

“Aww,” Abby says, suitably sympathetic. “That sounds rough. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you, okay?” And she pats him on the arm and heads into the stockroom. Justin gives Heckyl a quick acknowledging nod, and follows.

There’s a moment of silence as the Rangers are once again alone with Heckyl in the cafe: then Heckyl explodes, furiously:

“What is _wrong_ with you humans? Do you have to be _touching_ everybody _all the time_? Is it some kind of _test_? Are you looking for _weak points_ or something?”

The four of them, Riley, Tyler, Kendall and Ivan, exchange swift glances. No, is the wordless consensus. He’s really serious. He really doesn’t get it. This is actually a thing that’s happening here.

Kendall is the one who goes to him, straight-faced. “It’s affection,” she says, gently, and then almost can’t continue when she sees the look on his face. “People do it when they care.” He looks completely floored by the concept that people would care. His hand rubs the place on his forearm where Abby had patted him, as if he can still feel it, as if it burns. Then he exhales sharply in exasperation, turns on his heel, and strides off into the kitchen without a word.

“Really?” says Tyler, quietly, once the door’s closed behind Heckyl. “He worked with us for ages. He can be human enough for that. He was sure human enough to fool us. But _this_ is what gets him?”

“That was different,” Kendall says. “That was an act. A ploy. This is...this is what he’s actually like. He isn’t trying to fool us anymore.” What she really wants to say is, _wow, he’s damaged_. But that bit she keeps to herself. Psychoanalysing aliens is not something she wants to add to her resume.


End file.
